To Be Lonely in a Crowd
by Duckeelover
Summary: Pietro had been running his whole life. Why not? He never had a reason to stay. But then Charles Xavier offers him a home and suddenly Pietro has to fight against his very nature in order to find the place where he'll finally belong. Watch Pietro grow up at the Xavier Institute and experience all the twists and turns of being a teenager and a mutant. Warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back from the dead! Seriously, how many years has it been? Rip Bullet, I still hope to revive you one day. Anyways, this is my reintroduction to fanfiction. We'll get to see how things would be different if Pietro had grown up with the X Men. I'm also going to be writing a lot about mental health (poor Pietro is really going through the wringer this time), so if that's something you don't want to read about, click away now. I'll also be posting warnings before every chapter, so there will be adequate warning. And with that, let's begin.**

 **Warnings: Mentions of abuse**

Pietro Maximoff had been running away his whole life. He'd run from Marya and Django when he discovered that they weren't his true parents, the only thing bringing him back the smell of smoke and the thought of his sister. When his father appeared to wreak unholy justice onto the close-minded villagers, Pietro had run from him too. He supposed that was a common theme in their relationship.

Anytime when the pressure of being the son of a mutant terrorist became too much to bear, for they both knew despite Erik's attempts to hide his double life, he would run again. When Wanda's powers emerged, each time more violently than the past, he ran. And on that rainy day when he was nine- _I'm not thinking about it. I_ won't _think about it._

So, when Pietro discovered that his most recent foster home was filled with abusive assholes (just like the last _three_ ), he ran. He left in the middle of the night, packing no things without the slightest hint of regret.

"What do I have worth taking anyway?" The 12-year-old muttered to himself. Still, he was regretting not bringing at least a jacket as the cold November air bit through his thin T-shirt.

 _I don't even know where I'm going,_ Pietro thought numbly. Normally he would use his super speed in cases like this, but he had enough experience to know he would need all the energy he could get for the coming months. Not only was winter fast approaching, but any food Pietro consumed would have to be stolen. The fact that his metabolism was so much faster due to his mutation only made matters more complicated. _There's a good chance I'll die._

Strangely, the thought didn't bother him.

Shaking off his suddenly dower mood, Pietro decided to focus instead on where he was going. He had no destination in mind; the goal was simply to be anywhere except where he was. For the time being, he simply trudged along the side of an empty highway.

"God, I hope it doesn't rain," Pietro spoke to himself while glancing up at the sky to assure there were no gathering storm clouds. _Wait a second. What is_ that _?_

Whatever was hovering in the sky far above definitely wasn't a bird. In fact, it looked disturbingly like a human. Then again most humans didn't have wings. The most disturbing fact, however, was that whatever it was seemed to be following him. Come to think of it, how long had that thing been above him without him realizing it?

 _Screw saving energy, I'm speeding out of here._ Pietro could be ten miles away from here in a second. As a matter of fact, the silver-haired boy _would_ be ten miles away by now if it weren't for the hand now gripping firmly to his collar.

"Don't even try runnin', kid." Okay, now he was really starting to panic. He was either about to be kidnapped, or worse: the cops were here to put him back in foster care. Maybe he could talk his way out of this?

"Let me go!" That'll show 'em. "I haven't done anything wrong. This is kidnapping!" When the grip on his shirt only tightened, Pietro started to involuntarily struggle, pulling against his assailant.

"I believe you're scaring him, Wolverine." An African woman with long, white hair walked into view, pushing a bald man in a wheelchair. Well, at least with the way these people were dressed they definitely weren't cops.

"Angel said he was about to make a break for it," Wolverine (that had to be a codename, and a lame one at that) grunted, not loosening his grip on the 12-year-old's clothing. _Who_ are _these people? And why are they all dressed so weird?_ Studying the man in the wheelchair, a vague memory struggled to make itself known. _That bald dude sort of looks like-_

"Uncle Charles?" There had to be some kind of mistake as the man smiled warmly at the recognition.

"Ah, Pietro," He said warmly. "I was hoping you would have remembered me, though it has been quite some time since I've seen you." Pietro stopped any of his half-hearted struggling as he truly took in who was in front of him. Charles Xavier, his father's best friend, the one who had been such a common face to his childhood before simply disappearing, was right in front of him. In a wheelchair!

"What happened to your legs?" Pietro blurted out. One of the unfortunate side effects of his mutation was that he often said the first thing that came to mind, appropriate or not. If this were any other person, he wouldn't care. But this was _Charles,_ the man whose presence alone was enough to make Pietro wish to be something better. The man had a way of inspiring greatness in everyone. A wave of overwhelming guilt came over the silver haired boy. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did you say that? Now he'll just leave and you'll never get the answers to any of your questions._ Contrary to Pietro's internal monologue, Xavier took on a wistful, solemn expression, as opposed to the one of anger he had expected.

"It… is a long story," Xavier explained after a moment. "One best left for another time. I believe we have more pressing matter currently." Pietro nodded absentmindedly, focusing on the fact that his uncle didn't seem to be upset about his rude question. "Pietro, you and I both know that it isn't safe for a boy your age to be wandering about without any sort of adult, especially one with your gifts."

"So what?" Pietro snapped, defensive. The fact that this Wolverine guy was still holding onto his shirt with a death grip was starting to really piss him off. Not to mention how upset the implication that he couldn't take care of himself made him. He ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him he was only upset because of how tired and hungry he was.

"I mean no offense by my statement." Xavier spoke with an ever patient tone, his eyes betraying nothing. "And I apologize for the way we revealed ourselves. We simply feared that you would run before we had a chance to speak."

"Then why do I still feel like a captive?" Pietro made a strong attempt at keeping the pout out of his voice, but in the end failed miserably. He was hungry, tired, and now to top it all off, confused beyond belief. With a wave of his hand, Charles ordered Wolverine to let go of Pietro.

"It was never my or any of my colleagues intentions to make you feel that way, Pietro. We simply wished to extend an invitation to you. I run a school for mutants, to help them learn to control their powers and use them to contribute to society." Pietro thought about what Xavier was offering, trying to grasp the trap.

"Why would I want to go to your school? I already have control over my powers."

"That may be," Charles Xavier conceded. "But what I am offering is more than just an education. I am offering a home, a place to flourish while you discover yourself. And more than that, I am offering a family." Pietro considered everything Charles had said. He didn't really care about the family or school stuff, but it would be nice to have a safe place to come home to every night. And it sure as hell sounded better than any of his foster homes.

"Okay," Pietro finally spoke. It had felt like hours of thinking to him, but in reality only a minute or so had passed. "Say I come to your school. What are the chances of my father finding me?"

"I have no doubt that Erik will know you have joined the school almost immediately. But it is your choice on whether or not you want to see him or not, and should he try to be more… forceful, well, that's what the X-Men are for."

 _X-Men? Oh, all of these weirdoes. I don't think they'd stand a chance in a fight against Dad, but… I just can't help but trust Uncle Charles._

"I'll… do it." It wasn't normal for Pietro to hesitate, but to be fair to him, it had been an extremely rough day. For liabilities sake, he quickly tacked on, "But if I decide that I don't like it there, I'll leave." _Without telling you,_ he added just to himself.

"It seems we are in agreement." Charles Xavier had one of the most genuine smiles in the world. It was almost painful to look at. "Well then, how would you feel about going home and getting some food in you? Introductions can wait until after you're well enough rested."

Pietro couldn't agree more.

 **This is really more of a prologue than a first chapter, BUT... yeah, I got nothing. Don't expect regular updates on this one, because I'm a broke college student. The goal is every two weeks. Just so you're prepared, this is going to be a long one. I've already got ten chapters planned and we haven't even got to the start of the show yet.**

 **See you next time~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well here we are, Chapter two.**

 **Warnings: Suicidal ideation, some cursing**

By the time they arrived at the mansion, it was well past midnight. Pietro avoided the others in the jet, preferring to sit by himself. He knew that if he was more awake, he would be questioning Uncle Charles about the past couple of years and why he had suddenly stopped visiting him and Wanda.

The jet landed underground, much to Pietro's amazement. _This is so weird,_ he thought, unbuckling his seatbelt and waiting anxiously to leave. _I mean, who would've guessed Uncle Charles was mega rich?_

The door opened and Pietro was outside and waiting before any of the others could even think to move. The others… Of course, Pietro loved Uncle Charles. The man had been a near constant presence after they moved in with their father, until one day he simply vanished from their lives. The one time Pietro had attempted to ask his father where the man had gone, he had been met with an angry slap. He had opted not to ask again.

He also knew the African woman, Storm. She was the aunt of his former best friend, Evan Daniels. _I'm sure she hates me after all we went through._ Thinking about Evan was another painful topic.

The other two were new faces. Pietro had decided he did not care for Wolverine and his gruff no nonsense attitude. After all, who was Pietro, but the king of nonsense? Coupled with his wounded pride over being caught so easily by the intimidating older man, Pietro had opted to simply avoid the unwanted presence.

Angel, the last member of the supposed "X-Men", was the closest in age to the speedster. The blonde teenager had been the one Pietro had seen flying above him earlier. He had happily introduced himself as Warren Worthington the Third, which was promptly ignored by the silver haired child. He had no desire to make friends; he just wanted a quick meal then to be out of this strange situation.

Pietro hated slowly following behind the group, but he also had no idea where he was going. His usual impatience was kept in check by the amazing underground maze presented to him. _There's so much stuff down here,_ he thought wondrously. _How is this even possible?_

The group entered an elevator, Pietro obstinately separating himself from the others. They left him to his thoughts, chatting quietly. The boy felt a wave of self-pity. Who would want to talk to him anyway? Despite his thoughts, he knew that he put himself in this position. Of course no one would want to speak to someone as brash and uncooperative as he was. He repressed the painful pricking of tears. _I'm not going to cry over something so stupid._

Pietro was so caught up in his thoughts, he almost missed Xavier exiting the elevator. Not wanting to be left alone without the calming presence of his uncle, the speedster quickly followed. He noticed Wolverine and Storm breaking off from their small band.

"Where are they going?" Pietro asked, mostly to himself.

"To bed," Warren answered easily, despite the fact that Pietro hadn't actually been that interested in the reason. "It's like 3 a.m. I'm pretty sure Scott's still up though." Scott…? Oh no, there were even more of them!

"As I recall," Uncle Charles started. "Your metabolism was extremely fast, causing you to need more calories than average. I'm sure we can find something to satiate your hunger until breakfast tomorrow."

"Yeah, I could eat." Pietro tried to sound nonchalant, but in reality the prospect of food was already making his mouth water. He couldn't honestly remember the last time he had truly been full; even the better foster homes had fed him only what would be considered "normal" for his age. He followed Uncle Charles into the kitchen, unable to hide his eagerness any longer.

"Hey…oh…" Pietro paused at the sound of the hunched over boy at the table. What kind of person where's red sunglasses inside at night? Pietro internally connected Angel's earlier comment to this new person, Scott. _He's probably around my age too._ Scott looked vaguely uncomfortable, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks.

"Um, hi… I'm-"

"Scott, right?" Pietro cut him off, wanting this awkward interaction to end. Every second he wasted was another he wasn't eating. "Pietro." Introductions done, food time.

"Well, yeah," Scott mumbled, slowly gaining his confidence back. "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting a new face. I would shake your hand but I'm currently nursing a pretty bad cold." They sat in an uncomfortable silence that felt like it stretched out for hours for Pietro, but was likely only a few minutes.

"So…" Warren interrupted the strained quiet. "Who's feeling Mac and Cheese?"

Scott nodded vigorously and ,in answer, Pietro took a seat with a chair strategically placed between him and Scott. Uncle Charles smiled, situating himself at the head of the table while Warren got to work boiling the water.

"So, Pietro," Xavier started not long after. The speedster was happy for the broken silence, even though he could feel a lecture of some kind coming. "We should cover some ground rules while you'll be staying with us."

"I'm still not even sure if I'm staying," Pietro responded honestly. In any other situation, he would have simply left in the middle of the night without saying a word. But this was Charles.

"That may be. And while I do hope that you give staying here a chance, it is your decision. In the meantime, you should be aware of certain policies we have in place for all of the students here. For one, breakfast starts sharply at eight. You are free to use your powers as you please around the institute, but we do ask that you refrain from using them in public. This is both for your safety as well as that of all mutants. The world simply isn't ready to accept mutants yet." Pietro nodded; all of these were reasonable.

"I will also ask that you refrain from cursing while you stay here."

Fuck.

"Do these terms seem acceptable to you?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Pietro agreed, still caught on the no cursing thing.

"Food's ready." Angel dropped a steaming plate of Mac and Cheese in front of Pietro. The silver-haired-boys mouth watered before he quickly dug in, not caring if he looked like a slob.

"That was… fast," Scott commented. Pietro could just imagine his eyes going wide beneath the tinted shades.

"No, really?" Pietro replied sarcastically. He knew it was unfair to pick on Scott when the other boy had no idea about his powers, but Pietro had been bullied too many times about his speed, and hair, and fucking _personality_ to let an innocent comment slip by. "It's almost like I'm a mutant or something."

"You don't have to be a jerk about it," Scott shot back, his eyebrows furrowing. "I didn't mean it mean or anything like that."

"Oh, I'm sorry Shades McCool. I had no idea that people have to take things exactly as you intend them without their own interpretations. You would almost think that would eliminate miscommunication entirely. We should probably let the rest of the world know, it'll definitely end a lot of wars."

"You wanna go?" Scott scowled. His hands shot up to grip his glasses with the same tension one would have when holding a gun.

"Try me," Pietro shot back. Isn't this great? He'd been here ten minutes and was already screwing everything up. A wave of self-loathing threatened to send the speedster out the door. _I should just find a car and jump-_

His self destructive thinking was interrupted by Warren's guffawing laughter. The older teen wiped imaginary tears from his eyes.

"Would you look at that, Prof? They're going to fight it out over Mac and Cheese." At the laughter, Scott lowered his hand, flushing a bright pink color. Pietro felt his heart rate slow, the tension passing.

"It seems emotions are running high," Xavier agreed. "Perhaps it's time for bed?" Pietro couldn't believe how fast the situation had deescalated. In any of his other foster homes, he would likely now be nursing a busted lip or something of the sort.

Pietro followed his uncle to the room he would be staying in, knowing he would be getting no sleep. He sat on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. _Maybe this place isn't so bad. It's got food, the people are way better than any of my foster homes, and Uncle Charles is here. I could stick it out for a couple of days and see how it goes._

Pietro mulled over his options for the rest of the night as sleep refused to come, finally deciding to stick it out. In the end, he resolved for this to be his last home, one way or another.

 **And there's another chapter. Poor Pietro, depression sucks. I've always thought Scott would be super shy as a kid and Jean brings him out of his shell, so that's why he keeps blushing (and it's super cute). I couldn't remember whether I posted on Monday or Tuesday last time, so just expect new chapters on Tuesdays.**

 **See you next time~**


	3. Chapter 3

**Whenever I want to write I either watch The Gifted or X-Men: Evolution to give myself inspiration. This is usually a bad idea because I immediately have to watch The Gifted over again because I love it so much. Seriously, I need help.**

 **Silver: Ah, yes, Wanda will be appearing eventually, but not for a while unfortunately. Hopefully by chapter 9 or 10? She will be mentioned more and more as the series goes on (and this chapter has a little tidbit about her and Pietro that you might like).**

 **Warnings: None for this chapter.**

Scott

Scott didn't know what to think of Pietro. The younger boy was equal parts rude, angry, and charming. It was impossible to get a read on him, both due to his quick speed and personality. Yet at the same time, Scott couldn't help how much he liked having another teen's presence in the Mansion.

Maybe it was for that reason that Scott didn't immediately push Pietro out the door when he found the other boy sleeping in his room.

"What?" Scott questioned the motionless heap of silver hair on the floor. Not only was it the middle of the night, but Pietro had no reason whatsoever to be _sleeping on his floor._ Scott nudged the lifeless child lightly. "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" Pietro snapped in his sleep, turning away from the offending body part.

"This is _my_ room," Scott said, resorting to full on kicking to wake Pietro up. The silver haired boy obliged, glaring at Scott's ever present red shades.

"It's the middle of the night. Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I was until I realized you were sleeping on my floor." Why did Pietro always insist on discussing irrelevant things? "Just go back to your own room already."

"How do I know this isn't my room and you just pushed me onto the floor?" Pietro grumbled childishly. Scott rolled his eyes. _Way to avoid the issue._

"If you aren't gone in the next ten seconds, I'm getting Logan," Scott bluffed. He feared for his own life if he were to wake Logan from sleep. Pietro seemed to take the threat seriously however, sticking his tongue out defiantly before zipping away.

 _So weird,_ Scott thought, closing his eyes once more.

Warren

Warren Worthington loved his kid brothers. He really did, despite the fact that they more often than not drove him up a wall. In the week since he'd joined the Mansion residents, Pietro had revealed himself as a natural trouble maker. In a way, he was the perfect foil to Scott's stoic brooding. Warren had a soft spot for the silver-haired speedster; he brought a certain light to the Mansion that no one had noticed was missing before.

Warren went to open his closet and was jerked from his thoughts by the sight of the little speedster he had just been thinking about. Pietro was curled up like a cat, complete with his tiny hand covering his eyes. _Picture perfect,_ Warren thought, pulling out his phone to snap a few pics. It was nice to see Pietro actually sleeping; the boy always had dark bags under his eyes and the winged teenager would easily admit that it worried him.

"My bag…" His bag, and homework, was trapped under Pietro, acting as a sort of uncomfortable looking pillow. _As much as I want to let him sleep…_ Warren lightly shook the silver-haired boy awake, regretting his responsibilities as a student.

"Wha…?" Pietro blearily raised his head. He rubbed his eyes, sitting up uncharacteristically slowly.

"Sorry, bud," Warren apologized. "I've gotta do my homework."

"S'okay," Pietro mumbled stretching and standing up. Warren was half tempted to tell him to go back to sleep, but felt that Pietro would sleep better in his own bed.

"See ya, kid," Warren grinned, rubbing Pietro's head. The boy glared at the unwanted touch, frowning, before speeding out of the room. Warren smiled. "What are we going to do with you, Pietro?"

Logan

Logan hated going out for a smoke and finding Pietro lying on the balcony. How many times was this? _Four._ Wolverine sighed, putting away his cigar. With well practiced hands, he gently seized the small child, careful not to wake him.

It was a slow a walk to Pietro's room; the last thing Logan wanted was for Magneto's brat to wake up and freak out. Charles had told him that Pietro had feared him ever since the night he had come to join the Institute, and while Logan didn't blame him, he still wanted to avoid making the relationship any worse if the two were going to be living together for an extended period of time.

The gruff older man adjusted his grip slightly, opening the door to Pietro's room. Walking in here always made Logan feel a strong swell of pity for the child. The room was immaculate, without a shred of evidence that a person actually lived there. Whether it be from the foster homes that he refused to speak of, or the years he spent living with his biological father, Pietro had learned long ago to remove any evidence that he actually existed. It was safer that way, to pretend he wasn't alive.

Logan set Pietro down, tucking him in with a gentleness few would expect from him. Free of his burden, Logan made the move to leave when he felt a small hand grasping onto him. Pietro had latched on in his sleep, his grip made of iron. To remove the hand now would require waking the boy.

Logan sighed, taking a seat on the bed and longingly thinking of his cigar. _We are having a serious talk when you get back, Chuck. And then we're putting deadbolts on the door to be balcony._

Ororo

Ororo Monroe was ecstatic that her nephew's best friend was attending the Institute that she taught at. It was always exciting to get new students, but the addition of one she was familiar with (and had always feared would be coerced into choosing a dark path) filled her heart with hope.

The African Goddess entered her room, gaze lighting on the small shape curled into her bedding. She wasn't entirely surprised that this had happened. Warren's pictures, while cute, had been a warning sign, and Logan's late night complaints about finding their youngest mutant asleep on his balcony had been concerning.

"Sweet child." Ororo gently stroked Pietro's hair and blue eyes snapped open with fear.

"Storm. Um, sorry, I- I'll just go."

"Now, now, Pietro," Ororo chastised lightly. "I think it's time we got to the bottom of this. Why do you seem to sleep everywhere except your own bed?"

"It…" Pietro seemed lost for words. His gaze flitting to his hands as they tirelessly worked the fabric of the comforter. "It's just difficult, ya know? To sleep alone."

"I'm not sure I understand exactly," Storm tried gently, hoping not scare him away. This felt like a breakthrough. Had Pietro opened up to any other person in the Mansion, even Charles?

"I had a sister." _Had._ "We used to do everything together. We shared a bedroom our whole life until… She's gone now. I just really can't sleep without knowing someone else is in the room." Ororo noticed the final words, whispered without the intention of being heard. "Without Wanda."

"I see," Storm murmured, settling on a solution. "While I wish you would have told someone sooner, I'm sure we can work something out. I'm sure Scott would love to have a roommate." Pietro's eyes shot up, shock glistening with barely held back tears.

"But for now, you can spend the night with me. I don't think anyone would appreciate being woken at this hour."

"I don't get it," Pietro said, angrily wiping away his now free flowing tears. "Don't you hate me?"

"Dear child, why would I ever hate you?"

"Evan hates me," Pietro whispered. Ororo paused, biting her lip.

"I'm sure whatever happened between you and Evan will pass. I've never seen a pair as attached as the two of you. I remember how lost he looked when he learned that you had moved away."

"Not this." Pietro seemed positive, but would say no more on the matter. Ororo pulled the boy into a hug, softly stroking his hair as his hiccupping subsided.

"I promise you this Pietro," She said as his breathing slowed. "I do not hate you and there is very little that would ever make me feel that way. I fear you have seen too much of the horrors of the world already, but I promise that I will die before I let you sink any further into your own despair."

Pietro was long asleep by then, the tear streaks on his face drying in the night air. Ororo would be there to wake him if any nightmares came to torture his sleep.

Logan slipped into Ororo's room, a bottle wine in one hand and two glasses in another. He paused when he saw the silver-haired menace curled tightly the African woman who simply set a finger to her lips in a plea for silence. Logan sighed and backed out the way he came. _Guess I'm drinking alone tonight._

 **This one was so much fun too write. I particularly enjoyed Logan. I know it probably doesn't mean a lot to all of you when you write a review, but they seriously make my day whenever I read them so thank you. And a thanks to those of you who are a little more shy and like to read and not comment as well. Anyways, Happy Thanksgiving everyone, I'll see you in two weeks. Ciao~**


	4. Chapter 4

**I just saw Justice League and I loved it. I am so ashamed. On a side note, my art teacher said that she thinks all of my stuff is "so edgy". I don't know whether I should be offended or not.**

Scott's room looked different in the daylight. To be fair, Pietro hadn't been paying much attention on the few nights he'd spent sleeping on the other boys' floor. He glanced around at the other belongings: a picture of Scott with, presumably, his family, a few books lying haphazardly on a desk next to haphazardly stacked Algebra work, and a neatly put together bed that screamed "I'm the good kid".

Pietro scanned the other side of the room, his side now. There was now a newly made bed, a dresser, and a desk of his very own, all of which were immaculately clean. _That won't last long,_ the preteen thought ruefully. He quickly sped over to the dresser and neatly organized the clothes that Uncle Charles had thoughtfully bought for him after realizing that Pietro had absolutely no belongings.

"That's still going to take some getting used to," Scott said, shaking his head slightly. Pietro stuck his tongue out at his new roommate and fell back comfortably on the bed. For a minute they sat in a comfortable silence with Scott idly twiddling his thumbs.

"You know," The boy with the red sunglasses interrupted. "If you had just told me that you couldn't sleep alone, I wouldn't have kicked you out that one night. I mean, why didn't you just say something?" Pietro sat up, a small frown adorning his face.

"I…" Pietro wetted his lips, trying to think of the words to say, all the words he'd been unable to say for so long. "I don't like talking about Wanda, ya know? Besides, I'm 12 now. I should be over all of that by now." His father had thought that he should be over his sisters' absence by the next day, so Pietro could only imagine Erik's disappointment at finding his son still mourning his twin three years later.

"Wanda's your sister right?" Pietro nodded. Scott grabbed his family picture and handed it to Pietro, pointing to the blonde child at the front that a younger Scott was affectionately hugging. "That's my little brother. His name was Alex."

"Was?" The word didn't get past the speedster.

"Both of my parents and Alex died in a plane crash a couple of years back." Pietro couldn't look at the picture any more, pushing it back into Scott's chest. It was too similar; how many families had Pietro lost? Erik had abandoned him, Marya and Django had both died in that fire, and Wanda might as well be- _Oh God, don't think that._ Pietro rubbed at his eyes, trying to stop the pricking of tears.

Scott seemed to realize his mistake, hiding the picture and placing a comforting hand on Pietro's shoulder. "I didn't say that to make you upset," The other boy said quickly. "I just wanted you to know that I get it. My family is gone and it still hurts to this day. You shouldn't feel like it's not okay to still be sad about whatever happened to her. And we're all here for you. I know Logan may not seem like it, but he's really a big softie deep down."

Pietro was amazed at the amount of emotion and care that stoic Scott Summers had exhibited. He was vaguely reminded of his second day at the Institute when the speedster had asked Warren why Scott was always trying to impersonate a brick wall. Pietro steeled his voice, still unwilling to let the other boy see him cry.

"Thanks." Really, what else could he say? They lapsed back into silence, until they were interrupted by none other than Charles Xavier knocking on the door.

"I was thinking I would find the two of you in here," The bald man smiled lightly. Pietro couldn't help but be warmed by the familiar presence, pushing down all of those ugly, unwanted emotions for the time being. Xavier turned to Scott. "I'm sure you haven't forgotten the Danger Room session that begins in ten minutes."

"Of course not, Professor," Scott said sheepishly, turning a light pink color. He quickly went to closet and pulled out a black and yellow suit, somewhat similar to the one Wolverine had been wearing on the first night Pietro was introduced to the Institute and its odd characters. The silver haired child shot an inquisitive look at the Professor.

"I expected you might be interested," Uncle Charles said. "You may come and watch the training session if you want." Pietro nodded, eager to spend time with the near constant presence from his childhood.

They left Scott to scramble to get ready. Pietro was usually unhappy to be moving so slowly, but he always made an exception to stay around Charles. He had initially been irritated when he learned that the man would be leaving so soon after Pietro's introduction to his new home to "help a young mutant whose powers were developing too fast to control". Whatever that meant. But now that the his uncle was back, Pietro found it hard to stay angry at the one person in his life that had come back after leaving.

"I hope you are settling into your new room well," the Professor said. Pietro nodded, not wanting to think about all of the emotions he'd just abandoned in Scott's room. "I don't want you to take what I'm saying the wrong way, Pietro." Pietro eyed the bald man quizzically. "Would you be interested in therapy?"

If Pietro had been drinking water, he would have spit it out. Therapy? _No thanks,_ he thought bitterly, an image of Wanda crying for their father as she was dragged away forcing its way to the forefront of his mind.

"I'll pass." Pietro didn't mean for the venom to enter his voice, but he couldn't deny his disdain for any of supposed "mental health" professionals.

"For some reason I thought you'd say that." Charles nodded, his voice neither disappointed nor pleased. "I could tell you all of the benefits of speaking freely to a licensed professional, but something tells me they would go in one ear and out the other." _Yep._ Pietro wasn't feeling smug in the slightest. "But if you ever do change your mind, all you have to do is ask. I myself can work as a therapist, or if you would be more comfortable with someone else, I have many friends who would be more than happy to speak with you."

"Yeah, okay," Pietro acquiesced. _Like that'll ever happen._ Erik and him agreed on few things, but they both wholeheartedly believed that the entire field of psychology was, as his father had called it, pseudoscience bullshit.

They entered the control room for what Pietro could only assume was the Danger Room, which overlooked a large empty room where Wolverine, Angel, and Storm waited, all wearing their costumes from the night they'd met Pietro. He smiled as he saw Scott run into the room, pulling on a set of gloves. The ruby red sunglasses were replaced by a similarly red colored visor.

"Go ahead and start the warm up, Chuck," Wolverine called up. Pietro watched as the room came to life. Suddenly, lasers were shooting from the walls, the room looked like it was trying to kill all of them, and everyone was using their powers. Pietro stared in awe as Scott shot optic beams from his eyes, slicing what looked like a wrecking ball in half before it smash him into the nearest wall.

This was the first time he'd seen any of them using their powers in their full before. Angel, swiftly flying across the ceiling, his wings spread wide, though Ororo was not to be outdone. The goddess glided across the ceiling beside teenager shooting lightning at any object that dared threaten their journey. Wolverine was slicing everything to bits with his _metal claws_ , which the silver haired speedster had been totally unaware of. He had to admit, Pietro was impressed.

That feeling didn't last long however, as it rarely did with the speedster. He quickly grew bored with the impressive shows of power. _It doesn't look that hard._ I _could do all of this stuff and much faster than these guys._ As a matter of fact…

"Why am I not allowed to do this stuff?" Pietro asked Professor Xavier.

"I apologize, Pietro. I didn't want to give you the impression that you weren't allowed to participate in training. I simply wanted to give you more time to adjust before introducing the idea. If you wish to enter the Danger Room at any time, you're more than welcome too." Pietro thought for a minute.

"Can I go right now?"

"As soon as the others are done with their session." Uncle Charles looked surprised at his enthusiasm. Like hell was Pietro admitting that he desperately wanted to impress his housemates. "They should be done in an hour. Although, we will have to find something for you to wear."

"I've got that covered."

Pietro sped off and spent the next half hour constructing a costume of his own. In the end, he didn't want it to be too dissimilar to the others, so he went with black leather and the silly little X's on the side. _Whoever designed these has no idea about fashion,_ the speedster decided. He considered adding his own touch to the costume, but opted to wait until after he had tested the thing out before going through the effort of adding anything extra.

The silver haired boy returned to Charles, now in full costume. The Professor shifted his gaze to the preteen, nodding his head in approval. Pietro paced anxiously, ready for his turn. When the time finally came and the others left the Danger Room, the speedster eagerly raced in.

"We're going to start this on the lowest setting." Uncle Charles's voice echoed over the intercom. Pietro wanted to argue that it should be harder, but decided to play along in the beginning. In front of his eyes, the Danger Room transformed. Pietro scoffed, speeding easily around the room and incapacitating all of the objects on the ground trying to shoot him. It was sort of funny how everything was moving so slowly; a light punch going at this speed was enough to break the expensive looking electronics in half.

Pietro eyed the lasers on the wall, lapping the room in order to build up enough speed. _I haven't done this in a while,_ the silver haired speedster thought as he made the careful step from floor to wall. He circled the room, enjoying the feeling of running so much that he wasn't paying much attention to where he was going.

The speedster didn't see the wall pushing quickly out of the floor until it was right in front of him. Unable to dodge, Pietro stopped running. Unfortunately, he was going fast enough that the momentum propelled him forward so that he bounced off the wall and landed on the floor with a harsh clang.

Pietro shook his head, trying to ignore his now aching body. _I hope I don't have a concussion._ Erik had always insisted that most dangerous injuries were head injuries. Pietro pushed himself to his feet as the others rushed into the room. He tried to avoid any of their gazes, embarrassed by his aching limbs and weak display.

"That was amazing," Scott said. Pietro's eyes widened. Hadn't he just failed?

"You only think that because you lasted ten seconds your first time alone in the Danger Room," Warren scoffed. He turned to Pietro. "But you did do well, especially for your first time. Why didn't you tell me you could run on walls?"

"Uh…" Pietro rubbed the back of his head, suddenly sheepish. It felt weird to be rewarded when he hadn't even done right. Uncle Charles cast a worried eye towards the boy.

"How are you feeling, Pietro? That was quiet a nasty fall."

"It's alright," Pietro assuaged any fears quickly. "I've had worse." He ran into walls more often than he was willing to admit. Charles nodded.

"I would say this has been a rather productive day. You did well, Pietro. And I'm sure we'll be able to help you improve with time." Pietro couldn't argue with that; his overconfidence had been shattered easily enough.

"Let's go get something to eat, little bro," Warren said, throwing an arm over Pietro's shoulder. Pietro would normally push the big goofball off of him, but decided to let it be for now.

"Yeah, let's go" He couldn't help the small grin at his new housemates. _No. My new family._

 **When I planned this chapter out, I did not expect it to be half as long as it is. But I guess it all worked out, because this is now the longest chapter we have. Woohoo! For those of you wondering which mutant Xavier visited, that will be revealed in the next chapter when the team gets a new member. It shouldn't be that hard to guess, as there is someone very integral to every X Men team still missing. See you next time~**


	5. Chapter 5

**Uploaded just on time! On my end at least. This chapter and the next were actually supposed to all be a part of the same chapter, but the pacing was off and it was going to be way too long. So here we are with the introduction of our newest X-student.**

 _Pietro sped happily around the yard, making sure to pass close to his sister so that the wind blew her hair wildly. The young girl clapped, giggling. The speedster slowed to a stop, placing a kiss on the top of Wanda's forehead. Wanda smiled, enveloping her twin in a hug._

 _"_ _Things are nice here," She said, pulling back. Pietro couldn't help but agree. America had a certain charm to it that their home country didn't._

 _The calm moment was interrupted by loud yelling starting from inside the house. Pietro gripped Wanda's hand tightly as the trees began to sway in the wind._

 _"_ _It's okay," He murmured, hoping it was true. "Uncle Charles and Dad are just having an argument."_

 _"_ _What if they're talking about me?" The girl asked quietly. "What if it's about my powers?"_

 _"_ _It's not." It more than likely was. The stress of Wanda's increasingly violent powers was quickly wearing Erik's patience thin, despite Charles Xavier's efforts to help her control herself. "And even if it is, I won't let anything happen to you. I'll take care of you."_

 _"_ _What if I want to take care of you?" Wanda smiled._

 _"_ _We'll take care of each other then," Pietro agreed. "No one can keep us apart. Right?"_

 _Wrong._

Pietro shot out of bed, trying to calm his racing breathing. He wanted to run, to leave, and to never come back. The memories wouldn't leave him even if he left, and he had no desire to flee this peaceful home he'd found himself in.

The young teenager sighed, running his hands through his hair. He focused on the loud snoring of his roommate, letting his thoughts drift away from the dream. Normally he would be waking Scott up at this time to go to school, but the semester was now officially over. Pietro was half-tempted to wake the other regardless, just so he wouldn't be awake alone in the giant house.

Pietro decided to go for a morning run around the town, just to pass time. In a good hour, people would actually be awake and he would have at least _something_ to do other than think. He arrived back to a still snoring Scott.

"Wake up. Waaaaaaake uuuuuuup!" Pietro relentlessly poked the other boy into pulling his ruby shades on.

"I actually get to sleep in today though," Scott complained, sitting up.

"I did let you sleep in, Mr. 'I'm a morning person'," Pietro let the sarcasm roll of his tongue. To be fair to Scott, the speedster needed significantly less sleep as a side effect of his mutation.

"Yeah, like an hour," Scott said while begrudgingly getting dressed.

"You would have been upset if you missed breakfast."

"No, _you_ would have been upset if I missed breakfast." Pietro stuck his tongue out and he would have sworn that Scott was rolling his eyes behind his visor. The two went down to the dining room together, Pietro keeping the slow pace set by Scott.

"Nice of you two to join us," Logan grunted as they entered.

"His fault," Pietro called as he sped over to his customary seat to Warren's left. Scott sat opposite the speedster, letting his bangs that desperately needed a trimming fall over his face.

"As I was saying," Professor Xavier continued from where he had left off. "We will be receiving a new student late today. I expect consideration towards her, as this will be an adjustment period for us all. This applies especially to those of us who may come off as rather… abrasive."

"Read you loud and clear, Chuck," Logan replied, spearing a sausage with a claw.

"I wasn't referring to you, Logan," Charles said with a pointed look at Pietro. The speedster threw his hands up in mock surprise.

"You wound me so, Uncle Charles. When on Earth have I ever been anything but a saint? That you know of." He made sure to whisper the last part.

"Just be sure to be on your best behavior,"' The Professor acquiesced.

"Of course, Prof." Why was Scott rolling his eyes again?

"I'm Jean." The red-headed girl's outreached hand was promptly ignored by Pietro. She waited a minute, and then withdrew it awkwardly.

"Ignore him," Scott said, elbowing the younger boy. "He's just real standoffish at first."

"That's our, Piety." Warren chose that moment to ruffle the speedsters hair, much to the others annoyance. "He couldn't be friendly to save his life."

"That's okay," Jean said, clearly still uncomfortable about the situation. It wasn't the girl herself that Pietro didn't like, as much as her obvious wealth. She was dressed in finer clothes than he could ever hope to afford; he might as well just call her debutante considering how she looked.

"So what's your power?" Pietro asked as rudely as he could without reprimand.

"I can hear what other people think," She said shyly. "And I can sometimes move things with my mind."

"Sometimes?"

"I don't usually do it on purpose." Pietro's blood ran cold at the words. She even sort of _looked_ like Wanda.

"And that's why you're here," Warren nodded knowingly, and then clapped his hands together. "Well let's see what you can do." Pietro felt his stomach drop, but followed dutifully behind the posse of students.

"Where are you three taking our new student?" Ororo questioned, an eyebrow raised as she lowered her book.

"Danger Room," Warren said cheerily. The African goddess seemed to consider and accept the relative safety given Scott's presence. The book was raised once again as Jean mouthed 'Danger Room' to herself.

"We can all show each other our powers in here," Scott explained as they entered the training area.

"For instance," Warren said, removing his shirt. The handsome wings spread out behind him to Jean's awestruck expression. "This is why I'm called angel."

"They're gorgeous," She said, reaching out a hand to stroke the feathers.

"If you think that's cool, then just watch this." To Pietro's amusement, Scott seemed intent on impressing this girl. He lifted his visor ever so slightly, allowing the red beams to slice through a leftover target from Wolverine's last session.

"That's amazing!" Jean seemed even more impressed by this show of strength. Warren seemed to begrudgingly accept defeat and returned his shirt to its proper place. Jean turned to Pietro, a questioning look on her face.

"What's your power?" She asked politely. Pietro sped up to the kitchen and grabbed an apple, before returning to the Danger Room, all in less than a second.

"Other than my being devilishly handsome? I'm fast."

"That's so cool," The girl breathed. Pietro took a bite out of the apple before throwing it directly at her head. Just as he thought he'd made a terrible mistake, the apple froze in midair.

"What the hell, Pietro?" Scott yelled, already defensive of his new teammate. Jean held the apple aloft for a moment before unceremoniously dropping it to the floor.

"She said she could use telekinesis _sometimes_. In my… experience with this kind of thing, that means she needs some kind of extreme emotion to use her power. Fear usually works."

"That doesn't mean that that was okay for you to do," Scott fumed. If their situations were reversed, Pietro would undoubtedly have already started a fight. The speedster didn't care, however. He had learned what he'd needed to. Jean wasn't Wanda, not in the slightest. Wanda wouldn't have barely been able to stop the hurtling projectile. She, more than likely, would have effortlessly thrown her brother through a few walls before her anger subsided enough for her to realize what she'd done.

"Sorry," Pietro offered weakly. Jean seemed satisfied with the halfhearted apology, though she continued to eye the speedster carefully. He wasn't surprised when Charles mentally summoned him for a lecture not long after they'd returned from their misadventure.

"Pietro, I specifically warned you against this kind of behavior," The Professor berated him.

"I know." I _was there._

"I seriously hope you can learn to control your behavior before you start school again next semester, otherwise you'll undoubtedly land yourself in big trouble." Pietro blinked, trying to comprehend the last statement. He felt a trill of actual fear make its way down his back.

"I'm going back to school?!"

 **Well there we are. The next chapter will be a Christmas special released sometime next week. Following that we have our first arc of sorts (although I'm only planning on it being three chapters long). If anyone has a preference as to whether that little trilogy has a bittersweet or straight up dark ending, let me know, and I'll write it towards the general preference. Toodles~**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay on this one guys. I guess it's my fault for thinking I would actually work on this during the Christmas time. Speaking of which: Christmas chapter!**

"How long are you going to keep pouting for?" Scott asked with a sigh.

"I'm not pouting," Pietro lied. He most definitely _was_ pouting.

"You've been in a bad mood ever since you found out you had to go back to school and everyone knows it." The boy didn't even look up from his comic book to prove his point.

"So what if I am?" The speedster spat, pulling to covers more tightly around himself. Maybe when Scott shut up he could go to sleep and not think about how awful school was.

"Did you just expect to never go to school again? I mean you must've seen the coming." Pietro bit his lip but didn't respond. "'sides, serves you right after how mean you were to Jean."

"I was not mean to her. I just had to see some things for myself."

Scott snorted. "Yeah, whatever. Just as long as you don't act this way on Christmas."

"You guys celebrate Christmas?" Pietro frowned.

"Of course. Don't you?"

"Not really, no." When Scott looked at him like he was crazy, Pietro opted to give more context. "My mother was a gypsy and my father's Jewish. I know _about_ Christmas, but I've never personally celebrated it."

"So this is your first Christmas?" Scott asked in disbelief, dropping his comic book.

"Who said I was going to celebrate with you?" His protest went completely ignored.

"I've gotta get you a really good present then. What do you want?" Pietro flushed, uncomfortable with the sudden attention.

"I don't want anything. Besides, I don't have any money to get you anything and stealing is looked down upon in this household for some reason."

"It's your first Christmas," Scott argued. "I _have_ to get you something. Maybe Warren could help me." The red-sunglasses wearing boy hopped out of bed, muttering to himself.

"I don't want anything!" Pietro called, but the words fell on deaf ears.

"Just open it, Pietro," Warren said eagerly. Scott shot the silver-haired boy a shy look.

"I told you guys not to get me anything," Pietro muttered. Regardless, he tore open the wrapping paper on the small object, pulling out a new set of goggles.

"Wow," Pietro murmured, rubbing a finger gently over the goggles. They were silver and well made, much sturdier than the ones he had constructed for himself.

"We wanted to make it something special, and, well, we know how much your speed means to you…" Scott trailed off.

"Thank you so much," Pietro said, his eyes watering. Warren pulled the speedster into a hug that, for once, Pietro didn't protest while Scott grinned proudly.

"Hey, Pietro, catch," Jean called from across the room. The silver-haired teen turned in time to grab a small apple out of the air. He smiled at the girl as the other two boys burst out laughing. She grinned back. _All is forgiven._

Pietro blinked in surprise. _You can hear my thoughts?_

 _It's hard not to with how loud you think._ The red head cheekily sipped her hot chocolate. Pietro frowned. Uncle Charles had always said that Pietro's thoughts were too fast for him to understand.

He was brought from his thoughts by the other gifts being offered to him. Ororo had gotten him clothes and school supplies for the next semester. _It's amazing how much a mom she acts like when she doesn't even have any kids._ Pietro mused.

His uncle had gotten him around ten books, noting that he was "sure that you'll be through them by the end of the night". Nonetheless, Pietro was grateful for the gift. It was difficult to keep himself occupied, and he'd already read Scott's comic book collection three times. He thanked everyone for their presents, but the one that loved the most were the goggles.

 _I have to get them something too._

Warren wasn't as easy to get something for as Scott. After all, Warren Worthington the Third (every time he heard the full name, Pietro had to roll his eyes a little) was very rich and had just about everything a teenager could want.

In the end, Wolverine returned home from one of his many travels away from the Mansion before he could come up with something to get the older teenager. He was the usually the first to greet the returned mutant (not that he was waiting for him or anything like that). He met Logan at the door and the older man pulled out a picture that made Pietro's heart stop.

"Merry Christmas, kid," Logan said handing it to the speedster. It was the only picture he had had of Wanda. He'd thought that he'd lost it forever when he'd been returned to the foster system by the police after running away once. Only a few of his personal belongings had been salvaged from that time.

"How did you find it?" Pietro asked, a lump in his throat.

"Let's just say, I have my ways, Speedy," Logan said, ruffling Pietro's hair. Pietro hugged the man, grateful. He would be sure to never lose this piece of his sister again.

He left Logan to go place it safely on his bedside, nearly running through Warren on the way.

"Woah, slow down there," Warren said, catching Pietro's shoulder. The speedster just decided to outright ask the other.

"What do you want for Christmas? I mean, I know it's already passed, but you and Scott got me those goggles, so I want to get you guys something too."

"Hmm," Warren said, tapping his chin thoughtfully and looking up. "I want… you to smile more."

"What?"

"Smile more, Pi," Warren said. "And not that fake little smile you do so that you can hide how you're feeling. Really smile, okay?"

Pietro bit his lip, wanting to argue that he smiled plenty. But if that's what Warren wanted, then who was he to disagree? "Okay." He forced a smile to his lips before zipping away.

Pietro carefully set Wanda's picture on his dresser and pulled out his present for Scott. He sat the present on the pillow and waited patiently for the other to return from watching Jean train in the Danger Room.

Scott entered the room, an uncommon, lopsided smile gracing his face. Pietro pretended not to watch as the other boy went and grabbed the present. His eyebrows noticeably rose as he shot a discrete glance at Pietro.

"Wow, thanks," He said, pulling out a collection of comic books. "How'd you get these?"

"They're the kind you like to read, right?" Pietro asked, dreading having somehow made a mistake.

"Yeah." Scott was already flipping through the pages excitedly. "Thanks, Pietro. But you didn't have to get me anything, really."

"Yes I did," Pietro disagreed. "You gave me my first Christmas. I owed you that much."

"Well, I appreciate it." Scott glanced up and visibly noticed the new picture in the room.

"Is that Wanda?"

"Yeah. I don't know how, but Logan got me her picture that's been missing forever."

"That was nice of him." Scott's gaze grew serious, as it always did when they discussed Pietro's family. _Ironic considering he doesn't even know who my father is._ "So, Pietro. Why do you hate school so much?"

"Who doesn't?" Pietro responded. He wasn't in the mood to be reminded of his fears when he'd had such a great day up until this point.

"But you're like, afraid of it almost." Scott was only trying to help, but Pietro felt his good mood slipping away like quicksand.

"I've just never had good experiences there."

"Well, that's specific." Scott snorted. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I don't want you to be unhappy because you aren't talking about something."

"I…" The speedster hated being at such a loss for words. "School is so slow. I could do all of the work in an instant, but the classes draw everything out forever. Not to mention, it's hard to make friends when you're a twelve-year-old with silver hair." Scott paused, thinking for a moment.

"Do you know how I ended up at the Institute?" Pietro shook his head. He didn't want to interrupt the moment by speaking; he knew how difficult it was for Scott to speak about such things.

"Well you already know about what happened to my family. After the plane crash I sort of bounced from foster home to foster home like you did for a while. I was so messed up about my family, I couldn't really make friends in the brief amount of time I would spend at a given place. Some kids were picking on me when my powers emerged. I destroyed half the school and sent ten people to the emergency room."

Pietro swallowed, knowing how difficult this must be for Scott to say. "Then Professor Xavier found me. He brought me to the Institute and explained how I was a mutant and he gave me a home for the first time since that plane crash. What I'm trying to say is that, even though we can't necessarily fix the American public school system for you and make kids stop bullying, we can be here for you. We can be your family so that it's a little easier to suffer through every day."

Pietro's eyes were glued to the blanket he was wringing in and out. He heard what Scott, and he understood how hard the other boy was trying to make him feel better about returning to school.

"I can't promise that I'll like it," Pietro decided after a minute. "But I'll try, okay? I'll give school a chance."

"And we'll be here for you the whole way." Scott was so incredibly earnest, Pietro felt guilty about the dread that continued to twist his stomach. They sat in silence, with Scott returning to his new comic books. Pietro covered himself in blankets, waiting for unconsciousness to come and let the feelings of anxiety fall away. He didn't sleep that night.

 **Fun fact: I actually hate Christmas, so if this chapter felt weird, it's because of that. Sorry. Anyways, I felt I should let you all know that my uploading from now on will be much more sporadic, as I'm taking 5 more hours this semester than I did last semester. R.I.P.**

 **I feel I should mention now, the next few chapters are going to be much darker. The next one in particular is going to deal with Depression and self-harm. I'll also post more warnings next chapter, but I'm putting this now in the interest of fair warning.**

 **Hope you enjoyed. See you next time~**


	7. Chapter 7

**This chapter takes some dark, serious turns and focuses mostly on Pietro's life at public school. So there aren't too many of our signature mutants in the chapter. Warnings: Graphic Self-harm, some slight suicidal ideation.**

Pietro could definitively say that he still hated school. His first day back in the Seventh Grade was spent speaking individually to his teachers about getting the coursework for the rest of his semester. A few of his teachers outright refused (Since when had English become about class participation?), while his science teacher stated that she didn't even have all of the coursework ready to just hand over yet. The only teacher willing to hand over the giant stack of papers for the semester was his math teacher.

"Here you go!" Miss Taylor happily dropped a stack of papers into Pietro's hands. "And you can find additional help through my link on the school website. It's not often I get students so interested in getting ahead for the semester."

"Yeah, well, thanks." Pietro's eyes darted wearily around for a minute as he attempted to find a way to gracefully exit the room. He left quickly, hoping to avoid any lingering conversation.

His math homework for the semester was finished easily in a spare hour that night, and promptly turned in to his teacher's empty desk first thing in the morning. _At least I don't have to worry about that class anymore._ He'd essentially created a free hour for himself that would more than likely be used to sleep away the day's stressors.

"Pietro?" His math teacher's voice woke him from his otherwise lovely nap. He blinked his eyes open dryly, not even pretending he hadn't just slept through her entire lecture. "Could I have you stay after class for a couple minutes? Don't worry, I'll write you a pass for your next class."

 _Like I have a choice._ He obediently stayed in his seat as the other students filtered out of the room.

"I have to say, I'm amazed." His teacher had brought forth all of the homework he'd finished the night before. "I haven't finished grading them all, but from what I can tell, you've answered all of these perfectly. And you even have the work to back it up. How did you know how to do all of these so early in the school year?"

"Most of it was just common sense," Pietro answered honestly. "And for anything I didn't know, I just read the textbook."

"You _read_ the textbook?" She seemed astonished, brown curls whipping wildly around her face. _If that doesn't scream "new teacher", I don't know what does._ "Pietro, have you or your parents ever considered skipping a grade? I don't know how well you do in your other classes, but if you're as proficient in them as you are in math, you could easily be in Eight Grade level classes by now."

"I don't have parents." Pietro regretted his bluntness after he saw the visible wince of the young woman. "And I really don't want to move up a grade." If he moved up a grade, then he would have class with Scott, Jean… and Scott's _friends_. He knew how much the other boy struggled to give Pietro attention when normal kids his age were around. The speedster had no desire to put a strain on their relationship by forcing his presence into Scott's school day.

"If you feel that way, will you at least let me give you some extra work from a higher grade to see how much you innately understand?" _There goes my free hour._

"I guess," Pietro muttered. He grabbed his backpack and left the room, ready for the semester to be over.

"I hate school," Pietro declared loudly. His dinner sat untouched as he crossed his arms mutinously.

"It's only been two days." Scott aimed his fork at the silver-haired speedster to drive his point across. "You can't possibly hate it yet."

"Well, I do."

"And there's the classic 'Pietro Pout'." Warren's grin only grew as Pietro's face grew an indignant red. Jean ignored the growing tension and addressed the speedster directly.

"I know how difficult it is to start at a new school in the middle of the year," She said sympathetically. "But at least you know you're not alone." Pietro felt like screaming. _Then why do I feel so alone?_ Just as he thought his anger would consume him, it gave way, leaving an empty feeling in its wake.

"Whatever," He muttered, pushing his chair out.

"Ah, come on, Pi." He heard Angel call behind him, but Pietro was already out of the room and in his bed. He just desperately wanted to sleep. _At least if I'm asleep I won't have to think about tomorrow._ The monotony of every class, the accidental cruelty (because of course they would talk about his hair), the close relationships his classmates shared that he had never experienced, they were all driving him crazy.

His sleep was filled with nightmares that night. They were always the same thing: Wanda begging him to protect her, to save her. _I couldn't, I can't. I'm sorry._ He flipped his pillow in the morning so that he wouldn't have to look at the tear streaks from the night before.

Days passed in a haze. Pietro alternatively felt irritated and upset, or nothing at all. He preferred the nothing. The one light in his day was his math class. The young teacher would give him increasingly difficult problems, and then praise him the next day for having completed them perfectly. She didn't need to know that in the meantime he was neglecting his other classes.

 _Logan's gone again,_ Pietro thought numbly. He wanted the older man's presence, someone else that wasn't hopelessly optimistic in the face of all the worlds' tragedies. It was difficult to try and speak with any of the members of Xavier's Institute. Anytime he tried to explain how he was feeling, the words turned to dust in his mouth. So instead he spent most of his time sleeping. When he was asleep he felt numb; his growing anxiety and anger put on the back burner for a short time.

"Am I depressed?" Pietro didn't know where the idea came to him. It didn't make any sense; people with depression had to feel much worse than he did. Weren't they suicidal too? Not that he would honestly mind dying, but that was a train of thought that he tended to avoid.

"Pietro, are you feeling okay?" Miss Taylor woke him from a well-earned nap as the class bell rang. Her next hour was her plan hour, so if she ever wanted to keep a student it didn't eat into her class time. "I have your grade card here, and your grade in my class is fine, but your other classes…"

"I'm just not as good at them as I am math."

"Now I know that's not true," The teacher argued. "You're very smart, and unlike a couple of my students, you aren't lazy. So why haven't you been doing your work for your other classes." A prickle of irritation raced down Pietro's spine.

"How do you know? You don't know anything about me." He immediately regretted the harsh words, but Miss Taylor seemed to unperturbed.

"If this has something to do with your parents or anything like that, you should tell someone. It could be me or one of your other teachers or a counselor, but you shouldn't let that bright mind of yours go to waste by not talking to anyone. We can help you Pietro."

"Yeah, okay," He muttered, grabbing his things. He paused. "You haven't given me any math to do tonight."

"Your homework for tonight is to talk to someone. It doesn't matter what about, but it needs to be a real conversation, okay?" Pietro nodded and left the room in such a hurry he might have been using his powers.

That was the first time he didn't do his math homework. _I don't even know what that means,_ he thought helplessly, lying in bed. _A real conversation?_ His teachers' words went through his head again and again. In Pietro's dreams that night, no matter how loud he spoke, no one heard. He grew so tired of not being able to communicate that he grabbed a knife and drew it sharply across his wrist. He held the bloody appendage up to passersby, yet none turned. "Why can't you see?"

Pietro skipped school for the rest of the week. When he returned to classes on Monday like nothing had happened, Miss Taylor gave him a concerned look, but said nothing. He decided not to tell her that he'd spent the days seeing how long he could reasonably wait before moving out of the way of a car.

It was March when he decided that he'd had enough. He stole Warren's razor, stealing into the eyes that were so like his father's in the mirror. The other teenager would notice it missing, but Pietro was beyond caring. He left the door unlocked as he sat on his bed, some part of him deep down hoping that Scott would walk in and stop him.

No one bothered him.

 _I don't think I'll regret this,_ Pietro thought as a feeling of anguish overwhelmed him. He thought of Wanda, and how he'd failed her. He thought of Django and Marya and the mother he'd never known. He thought of his father, and how he would probably tell him to just get it over with. He thought of Scott and Warren and Jean and how their lives would be so much easier without him.

He dragged the razor sharply across his left wrist horizontally. At first he thought he hadn't cut deep enough, the blood delayed just long enough for him to appreciate what he'd just done. It wasn't particularly deep, but it bled enough that he would have to get rid of the pants he was wearing before anyone saw. Pietro eyed the blood, transfixed. He simultaneously felt better and worse. A sense of relief as well as feeling that he had just committed some unforgivable sin battled within him.

Pietro wiped the blood away, hiding his bloody clothing and throwing on a long sleeved shirt. He slept soundly for the first time in months.

"Could everyone in the class step out into the hallway for a minute?" Pietro heard his math teachers' words, but was slow to move for once. "You can stay there Pietro." The other Seventh Graders started to whisper conspiratorially as they filed into the hallway. *****

"Why'd you send them all out there?"

"So that we can talk." Her voice was stern and empathetic, a combination that set Pietro's nerves on edge. "I've given you ample opportunity to talk willingly, and I can't just sit by anymore. Now, you can either tell me what is going on with you, or I can get the school counselor involved. In that case, there would most likely be a call home, which I think you'd like to avoid. It's your choice."

Pietro considered walking out of the room and not coming back, but that would definitely result in a call to the Institute. He also considered right out lying, but felt that Miss Taylor would see right through anything he said. He opted to tell a minor part of the truth.

"My sister… She's gone." _Probably dead_. "I just miss her. And I thought it would get better after a while, but it's been three years and it still feels like it happened yesterday."

"Oh, sweetie," Miss Taylor seemed satisfied with his answer. "What was her name?"

"Wanda." It came out a whisper. When did that name become so foreign to him?

"Pietro, I'm sure that Wanda wouldn't want you to feel this way. Your sister would want you to be happy and healthy, and I'm sure she would be upset to see you throwing away your life mourning her. You can't keep all these feelings buried. Don't you feel a little better now that you've talked to someone?" He nodded. A lie. "I think you should tell the people in charge of the Institute that you stay at the way you're feeling. I'm not going to force you into anything, but they would likely be able to find you the resources you need to help you deal with your grief in a more positive way."

Pietro was saved from having to answer by the bell ringing. Had they really been in here that long? He sped out of the room and ran home to the Institute. He didn't care if he still had classes left for that day. He didn't even feel the sting as he dragged the razor across his wrist again.

The speedster slept the entire night, not even bothering to wake up for dinner, much to Scott's worry. He already tried to avoid his housemates as much as possible to spare them his bad moods; what was missing one dinner?

"Would you be willing to stay a little after school today, Pietro?" Miss Taylor asked politely, brown curls bobbing. Pietro gave a nod in acquiesce, mentally preparing himself for the well intentioned heartache he was about to endure.

Thunder rumbled as the silver-haired teenager reentered his math class as the final bell rang. Pietro had a strong dislike of rain. It made running difficult, and running was the only thing that brought him anything close to joy these days.

"I just wanted to make sure you had these resources available to you." The teacher handed him a list of therapists and grief counselors. Each one was detailed, and they even included which insurances each accepted.

"Thanks." _I guess._ He just wanted to be left alone. Pietro had grown increasingly comfortable with his misery, to the point where he wondered if he had ever been happy to begin with.

"If you want help speaking with any of them to get an appointment set up, I can help you out. Or if you don't know what to say to your guardian, I could speak to them for you. I just want to make sure you have the help you need."

"I… appreciate it." He placed the papers in his bag, careful to show his disdain for the paper. Another gasp of thunder shook the room. Miss Taylor glanced at the clock.

"Oh, I seem to have made you miss your bus. I can go up to the main office and have them call it back."

"It's fine. I walk home anyway."

"You can't walk home in this!" The teacher grabbed her purse and umbrella. "I can give you a ride, since it's my fault you missed yours." Pietro wanted to decline, but realized it would be pointless. He couldn't explain to this woman that he would be back home way faster than her car could ever move.

"Take a left here and it'll just be straight for a while." Pietro just wanted to get home and sleep, but the car was moving at painstakingly slow pace to account for the pouring rain.

"I included a personal note at the back of those papers I gave you," Miss Taylor said, not taking her eyes off the road. "You can read it later and think about what it says and tell me if you want it." _Want it?_

Pietro was about to ask what she meant when a flash of lightning illuminated the world. Directly in front of them, a figure stood calmly, not moving even as the car rushed towards it.

"Oh my God," Pietro's math teacher whispered, swerving to avoid the figure. The wheels slid beneath their car, and suddenly it was the forest zooming up to meet them.

 _No,_ was Pietro's last thought as loud crashing sound shook his world and everything went black.

 ***I actually took this from real life. We had a teacher who, if someone was visibly upset, he would send the rest of the classroom out of the classroom to speak with. I honestly can't speak on which would be worse, but both sound equally terrifying to me tbh**

 **Well, there we go. Pietro's got some serious issues that are being exacerbated by our broken public school system, am I right? Poor sunflower. I included his math teacher as an example of how well intentioned people can make** **Depression SO MUCH WORSE. There are a lot of people (some of whom have degrees in the subject) who have no idea what they're doing when it comes to mental health, and it can have deadly consequences. It's an unfortunate thing that'll only go away with people being more open about mental illness.**

 **Enough sad talk. So for the next chapter, I was originally going to have it pick up directly after this one, but as I didn't include a lot of what I wanted (and the X-Men barely even showed up) to due to the size and the fact that I wanted to get this chapter out on a reasonable timeline, I'm considering adding another chapter in between the two. It's up to you guys whether you want another chapter, or just a Oneshot or something, bearing in mind that we wouldn't figure out what happened to Pietro for even longer if I gave this in between chapter precedence. If no one has a strong opinion either way, I'll just go with my gut feeling.**

 **See you later~**


	8. Chapter 8

**I did not intend for this chapter to take as long as it did, but better late than never I suppose.**

 **Warnings: There's a brief description of gore**

Scott would admit it- he was worried.

 _Pietro should have been home hours ago,_ he thought as another strike of lightning lit the windows sporadically. Pietro had always opted to run home by himself rather than wait for Warren to pick him up like Scott and Jean did. It shouldn't take the silver-haired teen more than a few a minutes to run back, even with the downpour outside.

"Unless something happened to him…" Scott murmured, feeling the ominous dread in his stomach grow a touch larger.

"Unless something happened to who?" Jean smiled warmly as she pushed the door open. "You're thoughts were so loud I thought I should ask if everything was okay."

"Sorry." Scott seriously hoped he wasn't blushing. "It's Pietro. He should've been home a while ago. I'm sure its nothing, but…"

"No, I know what you mean." Jean looked thoughtful, as if trying to put a puzzle together. "He and I never truly got off on the right foot, but I feel like he's been especially closed off lately. I hope nothing has happened."

"So you don't think I'm worrying over nothing?"

"In this case, no. I think we should go to the Professor. If something really is wrong, time is going to be of the essence." She grabbed his hand and Scott was left to wonder if he'd just been subtly insulted as they searched for their esteemed leader.

"Professor!" Jean called as they hurriedly entered his study.

"Jean?" The bald man paused whatever conversation he had been having with Logan to stare intensely at his students. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Sorry to disturb you, Professor," Scott took over the conversation. "Pietro isn't back yet and we were starting to get worried. It just isn't like him to disappear like that, especially not in the middle of a really bad storm."

"You're right, Scott," Xavier said thoughtfully, placing a hand on his chin. "This could be very serious. I can try to look for him on Cerebro, however, his mutation makes him uniquely difficult to locate with telepathy. Logan, can you-"

"You know I couldn' just wait around with the kid possibly in trouble, Chuck," Logan interrupted. "I'll start searching."

"Thank you." The Professor turned to his two young students. "I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. Logan and I will handle it from here."

"But Professor!" Scott wasn't used to arguing with his Charles Xavier, and it felt strange to question an order like this. "Pietro's important to us too. Please let us help."

"Not happenin' kid, but nice try," Logan snorted, already moving to leave the room. Scott stood his ground, refusing to lose this.

"This is the whole reason you created the X-Men, isn't it Professor? If we can't even protect one of our own, then what good are we going to be out there trying to help people we don't even know?"

Charles Xavier was a hard man to read when he wanted to be, and this just so happened to be one of those times. For a few tense seconds, Scott was positive he had misspoken. Then the Professor nodded slowly.

"You're quiet right. I'm sure Warren will appreciate being included, so bring him and Scott with you on your search, Logan. Jean, I would like you to remain and assist me with operating Cerebro."

"Sure thing, Professor," Jean said, a relieved look crossing her face. Scott felt a moment of guilt as he realized she'd never been out in the field officially as an X-Men before. Having one of her housemates possibly be in danger likely wasn't what she hoped for for her first mission.

"We're wasting time we could be usin' to find Speedy," Logan ground his teeth as he pushed past Scott. "Grab Angel and meet me at the Blackbird. If you take too long, I'll leave without yeh."

"Oh God, no," Warren whispered. Scott would have echoed his sentiments if he wasn't searching desperately through the rain for those locks of silver he'd grown so familiar with over the past half year in the wreckage on the ground.

 _Why did Storm have to be gone today of all days?_ He thought numbly. Cyclops tried to take comfort from the fact that the crash must have happened recently, as the car was still smoking despite pouring rain.

He peered through the shattered windshield, and felt his breath catch at the sight of blood littering the seats. _Don't jump to conclusions,_ he told himself. _No bodies._ He ignored the fact that the crimson liquid could easily fill an entire human being.

"I don't get why he would ride in a car in the first place," Angel muttered as he crouched down to examine the broken pieces of glass on the ground. "He could've been home in seconds if he wanted too." Scott shook his head; neither of them had the answer, but they knew better than to question Wolverine's smelling abilities.

Scott moved slowly around to investigate the back seat. He paused and opened the door, grabbing a rather large box with many small holes poked in it from the seat. On the top, in cursive, Pietro's name and the words 'It's your choice' were written. _What could this be?_

A loud growl and the crack of tree limbs breaking broke the two from their reverie. Wolverine was panting angrily, his claws slicing the forest around them indiscriminately. The older man gave one last howl of anger before sheathing his claws and stomping over to the two teenagers.

"We're going back. Now."

"What are you talking about?" Warren said incredulously, clearly in shock from the large outburst.

"We can't leave without Pietro!" Scott put in. He _would not_ lose another brother.

"He ain't here," Logan spat. "And the more time we waste the less likely we are to find him." The man was already on his way back to the Blackbird.

Scott's curiosity won out over the dread in his stomach. He quietly went in the opposite direction of the team leader, knowing he would regret not seeing what had caused such a visceral reaction. As he reached the edge of the trees his breath hitched.

What was left of her was nailed to a tree. He could barely recognize her face through the different marks, but he recognized the hair of one of the Seventh Grade teachers at their school. Carved into her stomach with an animal ferocity were the words 'Do Not Follow'.

But that wasn't the part that scared him. No, the part that terrified Cyclops beyond anything he had ever felt since the day he jumped out of that plane with his brother was the cold hard fact that whatever had done that to the teacher now had Pietro.

"You two ain't comin'," Logan was firm as he looked the two other current Blackbird occupants in the eye.

"Are you frickin' _kidding_ me, Logan?" Warren snapped, pulling his head from between his hands. "You think we're going to just walk away after seeing _that_?" The winged boy started to pace. "I mean, what even _did_ that?"

"His name is Sabretooth," Logan grunted, his eyes watching Angel with a wariness that Scott hadn't seen before. "He ain't like anything you've faced before. He's the real deal and I'm not bringing two kids with me."

"He has Pietro," Scott said quietly. He'd stayed out of the arguments for the most part up until now, but he turned to stare at the older X Man. "If you think we're going to stay behind, even if you try and force us, then you don't know us."

Logan frowned, but before he could argue anymore, the beeping of incoming call interrupted. Wolverine pushed the button, his eyes narrowing.

"Talk to me, Chuck. What've we got?"

"I couldn't track Pietro due to his mutation." There was a slight pause before the man continued. "But Sabretooth I know very well. He's located at a church on the edge of Bayville. I'm sending you the location as we speak."

"I owe you one, Charles," Wolverine responded, inputting the coordinates. "Kid wouldn't have gotten dragged into this mess if it weren't for me."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I suspect there is a darker force behind the events today." Scott could feel the unspoken tension between the Professor and Logan. "Please, bring him back to us."

"We will." Warren and Scott exchanged a glance at the use of 'we'.

"I just hope we ain't too late."

 **And there we go! We won't get to see Pietro again until next chapter unfortunately (which hopefully won't take as long). I have to say, the last six months have been some of the busiest of my life. Excuses, excuses, I know.**

 **Anyways...**

 **See You Soon~**


	9. Chapter 9

**There's a slight chance that I maybe felt a little guilty that it had been so long since my last upload and went and wrote two chapters within the span of a week. Perhaps. Sorry about that! And after such a cliffhanger. Here we finally learn what happened to Pietro at the end of Chapter 7!**

 **Warnings: There is some pretty brutal violence committed against a child in this one. What can I say, Sabretooth does not hold back.**

I _can't move._

Pietro didn't want to panic. Panicking never solved anything. He could feel his hands tightly tied behind his back, the rope chafing his skin raw. The teenager forced his eyes open to reveal an empty church.

He pushed himself into a sitting position, trying to get a sense of where he was. There was dried blood cresting the left side of his face and staining his silver locks a dark red. Pietro felt a brief moment of dread as he wondered for the first time where his teacher could possibly be.

"Look who's awake." A deep voice mockingly addressed him. The man attached to it made his way into view from behind where Pietro was currently struggling to stay upright. His long greasy hair and giant build did little to distract from his massive fangs.

"I hear you've been a bad kid."

"The fuck… are you," Pietro spat. Normally he would try to be a touch more courteous, but he seriously doubted this man would care at all about the language he chose to use.

The man grinned sinisterly, grabbing Pietro's chin and forcing it up to look into his eyes. His breath smelled like something had crawled down his gullet to die long ago and was currently halfway through decomposing.

"I'm Sabretooth. Better behave yourself before daddy gets here. I can't kill ya… but if you end up a little scuffed along the way, who's to say it was my doing?" Pietro took the opportunity to spit in Sabretooth's face. The man growled, roughly slapping the silver haired teenager. The resounding crack echoed around the empty pews.

Sabretooth got up and moved away, pulling out a phone. Pietro ignored the stinging in his cheek, pulling at this restraints while the monster that was holding him had his back turned. He didn't want to even consider the possibility of seeing his father again. He was getting out of here long before he showed his long absent face.

 _I'm going to have to try something new,_ he thought as he started to vibrate his hands. He and Professor X had theorized not that long ago that if he got moving fast enough, he would be able to pass right through solid objects. _No better time to test it than the present._

Pietro gritted his teeth as he felt his hands slip straight through the restraints. He was on his feet in less than a second and running before any normal person would even notice he was untied. Unfortunately for him, Sabretooth was not a normal person. The battered teen felt a sharp tug as his leg was held back with a strength far surpassing his own.

"What did I just say about behaving yourself?" Sabretooth growled, pulling the leg out from under Pietro so the boy was hanging upside down. He tried to kick his captor with any strength left to him, but the man simply laughed. Sabretooth roughly smashed the leg he was currently holding onto the ground.

Pietro saw white.

 _My leg,_ he thought numbly. _Do I have a leg._ He knew he should feel pain, especially with the disgusting angles his right was now positioned at, but he felt nothing.

"I won't give up," He murmured dreamily. X-Men didn't give up. He wasn't going to disappoint his new family by thinking he defected. _If I can't make it out of here, I'll die trying._ That didn't sound so bad at least. Pietro pulled himself forward slowly, using left arm to drag the weight of the rest of his body.

"Pathetic," Sabretooth scoffed. He watched his captive carefully, deeming him no needing restraints. A moment of lucidity overcame Pietro and he stopped attempting to crawl towards the faraway exit.

"Did you kill her?"

"Who? The bitch in the car with you?" That feral grin appeared on his face once more. "Yeah. I sliced her up real good to send a message to those X-Freaks you've been staying with. Doubt they'll listen, but at least it was fun for me." Sabretooth leaned in close to Pietro so the younger caught every word. "And you know what the best part is? I would have never found you two if it weren't for how" he licked his lips suggestively "sweet you smelled."

 _My blood._ As if on cue, Pietro's adrenal left him and he felt the full extent of his injuries, including his shattered Fibula. He couldn't help; Pietro screamed.

 _It's my fault. My fault. All my fault._

His head ached and he wanted nothing more than to disappear. Pietro was aware peripherally of Sabretooth watching his pain in glee in between checking his phone. The only thing Pietro hated more than himself in that moment was the monster who had had so much fun tearing apart his life.

Sabretooth's gleeful expression soured, his nose twitching as he caught a scent. He grabbed Pietro by the neck, throwing him back the couple of feet to where he had began this monstrous ordeal.

The pain of the impact was almost enough to make him pass out again as he gasped for air. A loud echoing broke him from his panting as he angled his head to see none other than Wolverine pushing his way through the entrance.

"Sabretooth!" Pietro had never heard such anger in Wolverine's voice before. _Is he mad at me?_ The thought flitted briefly across his mind through his delerium.

"Long time no see, Wolverine," Sabretooth held an equivocally calm tone, his eyes narrowing.

"I'll give you one chance to let the kid go before I break your neck."

"Sorry," Sabretooth had started walking towards Wolverine as well, the two speeding up as they got closer. "Magneto would be pissed if I let his brat grew up with his arch nemesis."

Those were the last words before Wolverine leaped. Sabretooth dodged easily, Wolverine's claws slicing through the nearby pews. Sabretooth jumped and the two went rolling in the other direction.

"This is a holy place," Pietro chastised to no one in particular. His head swam as he tried to keep his eyes on the two fighting. "Well not as much for me. I'm Jewish."

"Pietro!" Pietro didn't remember turning his head, but suddenly he was staring at Cyclops, whose expression was one of the utmost relief. "Are you okay? Can you move?"

"Um..." The silver haired teen considered for a second. Could he move? His head was so fuzzy. "I do not think so..." He dragged out his words as he tried to make sense of them. In his opinion, the crashing of breaking furniture wasn't helping.

"Scott..?" Angel had appeared next to Scott like an… well, an angel.

"We're going to have to carry him. His leg..." The way Scott trailed off did not bode well for the current state of his body.

"I don't feel so great guys."

"We know, Pi." Angel knelt down and stroked his hair softly. "We're going to get you home and pretty soon this will all feel like a bad dream."

"It already feels like a bad dream." Pietro hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"What have we got here?" Sabretooth's snarl made the two heroes heads shoot up. Wolverine was no where to be seen and there now seemed to be one less wall than before (though honestly, Pietro couldn't really claim to have the best memory at the moment).

"Two little X-Brats." The villain's eyes were dangerously narrowed as his mouth spread wide to show his massive teeth off. "You better get away from the little demon spawn I have to deliver."

"I would say _you_ need to get away," Angel had floated into the air. Pietro didn't know that the older teen even had the ability to look menacing.

"Pietro is coming home with us." Scott was quiet and strong like always, standing resolutely despite the fear he must have at facing someone who had just taken out Wolverine. "Take one more step and you'll wish you hadn't."

"You think you can scare-" The flash of red was astounding. One second Sabretooth was smirking as he slowly approached, the next he was flying through the air. Angel wasted no time, punching Sabretooth to angle him through a window. When the beast moved to pull himself back in, Scott shot off another optic beam, forcing him further into the surrounding woodland.

"I think we bought some time." Angel landed next to Pietro as Scott continued to peer anxiously out the window. "We have to move him. Now."

When Angel attempted to grab him in his arms, Pietro couldn't help but let out a tiny whimper. Warren heard the sound and paused, his expression unsure for the first time that night. He tried to readjust his grip, but every time his leg moved and inch, Pietro couldn't help the cry of pain.

"Let me grab him." Wolverine pulled himself through the open wall, limping, but clearly on his way to healing already. "You keep an eye out for Sabretooth with Cyclops."

"Logan..." Pietro trembled a little as the rugged man effortlessly scooped him up. He pushed his head into Wolverine's shoulders, not truly believing what was happening. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, kid." Logan wasn't usually one for comfort, but Pietro supposed this wasn't a typical situation. "We would never let the likes of Sabretooth or Magneto get you. Not now, not ever. Do you understand?"

Pietro nodded, the tears he didn't know were on his face slowing down. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but feel safe in Wolverine's arms.

Pietro was going home.

 **When I set out to plan this chapter, it was originally going to be longer. I was going to include the aftermath to all of this mess that's happened, but I figured it deserved some more space to breath, so instead we have this. I apologize if my fight scenes aren't very good. To be fair, this was from Pietro's perspective and he had a concussion through most of the chapter (if that wasn't obvious).**

 **I doubt the next chapter will be released half as quickly, but hopefully it won't be as long as the wait in between Chapters 7 and 8. Once again, sorry. Anyways, that's all for now.**

 **See ya~**


	10. Chapter 10

**A much lighter chapter than what we've had in a while. No warnings except for brief mention of past self-harm.**

When Pietro opened his eyes, Scott was next to him. He could have probably believed that it was only because they shared a room, if not for the fact that the other boy was sitting laying casually on his bed, reading _The Once and Future King._

"Scottie," Pietro spoke softly. "I think we need to have a conversation about boundaries." Scott closed his book and set it down, smiling slightly.

"You? Boundaries? I don't think you even know the definition." Scott's banter faded away as his gaze turned serious. "How are you feeling, 'tro?"

"'m fine." He paused to contemplate how tough he looked. "My leg hurts… Everything hurts."

Scott chuckled. "Yeah, that's what the Professor said. Your leg is going to be in a cast for a while." Pietro already hated the immobility. "But I was more wondering how you were _doing._ Emotionally."

"Well, I was thrown through a car windshield, woke up in a Church to find out my Dad hired the guy who threw me through the windshield, and had both my leg broken and other bodily injuries that I'm sure I'll remember if I keep having to think about this, which I'd rather not. All in all, just peachy."

Scott reached his arm around Pietro in a half hug. "I'm not sure if you know yet, but the woman who was driving you… she didn't make it."

"Yeah." Pietro swallowed as his throat turned to sand. "Sabretooth may have mentioned that."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." _It's mine._

Scott opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by Jean pushing the door opened. "What is _that_?" Pietro asked, pointing at the small, drying kitten in her hands.

"You haven't given him the letter yet?" The red-head asked Scott, setting the orange tabby on the already crowded bed.

"He just woke up," Scott protested. He pulled the envelope he had been using as his bookmark out of its place and handed it to Pietro.

"What's this?"

"Read." Jean sat knelt down to stroke the purring kitten. The silver-haired teen frowned and pulled out the letter.

Pietro Maximoff,

I know you haven't been having the best year, and I'm sorry that I couldn't help you. I think part of me figured that if I could show you how to help yourself, I would be saving you. I realize now that I was being selfish. I'm taking you home so that I can speak with whoever is in charge of the Institute that you live at about what you've been going through.

I know you may hate me now, and I know I've stepped over my bounds as a teacher, but you need help. I'm going to be leaving soon, I have a new job lined up two states over for next year, but before I leave I need to know you'll be okay. As it so happens, I won't be able to keep my new cat with me in my apartment. If you'd like, and if your Headmaster or whatever is alright with it, I'd love for you to have a new home with you.

It's your choice,

Angela Taylor

Pietro shoved the note into the envelope, his hands trembling. He eyed the cat with new perspective.

"You don't have to keep her if you don't want," Scott said. "I'm sure we could find her a good home." Pietro ignored him, watching the kitten rub itself against Jean. He reached forward, running a hand lightly over its back. Green eyes turned to meet his, and Pietro knew he couldn't let her go.

"I think we'll call you Wanda."

"When's your birthday, Pietro?"

"Why do you ask?" Pietro scratched Wanda's head as they basked in warm, summer sunshine on the lawn. Jean leaned over him, blocking out the sun.

"Well, my birthday is on June 23rd." _Does she want me to get her something?_ Pietro still wasn't overly fond of his red-headed teammate. "And Scott's is September 10th. So I wanted to know when yours was."

"If you have to know," Pietro sighed. He'd been happy to let his Thirteenth birthday pass in peace. "March 10th."

"All the way back then?" Wanda left his chest, annoyed at the sudden lack of warmth. Jean looked unsatisfied. "Why didn't you say anything? We could have done something to celebrate."

"Not my style." Pietro stood up and stretched. "Birthdays are a waste of time."

"What-," He was gone before she finished the sentence. He scooped up his cat and ran into the surrounding woods. _Summer is so boring._ School was much worse though.

Wanda hissed, uncomfortable with the quick movement. The tabby pawed at him, and Pietro lightly set her down. He pulled up the sleeve where Wanda had attempted to scratch him. _No scars._ He'd promised after the Sabretooth fiasco that he wouldn't take a razor to himself again. He had to thank his superpowers for giving him such quick healing.

"Whatcha doin', Piety?" Warren called from up above. His gorgeous wings were spread wide as the young adult clung loosely to the top branches of an oak.

"Trying to avoid Jeanie." He would have lied if he were talking to anyone else, but Warren had never minded his hostile attitudes. The blonde heaved a dramatic sigh, drifting down to the woodland floor.

"You should be nicer to her," Warren said, wrapping an arm around Pietro's shoulder. "She's a sweet girl. And she thinks of you as friend." Pietro snorted. "I don't know where she got that idea." The two started a slow walk through the shrubbery. "You know, I won't be around much longer."

"You don't have to remind me," Pietro muttered. He tried to keep the anger out of his voice; he should be happy Warren was going to get to go to a nice college.

"It'll be okay, kid." Warren had always had that way of brushing everything off. "Even if I don't live here, we can still talk on the phone. And I'll make sure to come visit you and Scott. I guess what I'm trying to say is, you shouldn't hold this grudge against someone that cares about you for some imagined slight. Just give Jean the chance to prove how great she is to you, and I promise you she will."

"It's not like I hate her or anything," Pietro mumbled. _I don't want you to leave though._ "I just don't want to trust more people than I have to. But, I guess if you really want me too, I can try and be a little nicer to her."

"That's all I ask, little bro." Warren mussed his hair affectionately. The taller teen reached down and scooped Pietro up bridal style. "Let's fly home." Pietro rolled his eyes, but decided to indulge his friend.

It didn't take long to find Jean. When her and Scott weren't reading books together (the combined nerdiness of the two disgusted him), she spent time improving her telekinesis and cooking.

"Yo," The speedster said, entering the kitchen. Jean was placing a pan of cookie dough in the oven. "Can you use your mind magic to help me find Wanda?"

"Sure thing!" If Jean was surprised by the request she didn't say it. She quickly set a timer and took her apron off. "Hmm… Yup, I've found her. Let's go get your kitty."

"Lead the way." They walked side by side into the warmth outside.

"Did I do something to make you not like me?" Jean was quiet, not looking at him.

"Not really." Pietro bit his lip, mulling over his word options. "I… I just don't get along with people, generally speaking. I rub people the wrong way, and most snails aren't worth slowing down for."

"Do you know how I ended up here?" Jean tended to look at him in a way that made Pietro feel like he was invisible. "My powers were getting out of control. I would go to bed fine and wake up to the whole house shaking. I could hear what people were thinking. Not just one person, everyone. I thought I was going crazy. Then Professor Xavier found me, and he showed me that I wasn't crazy. I was a mutant. And more importantly, I realized I wasn't alone." She turned to him. "You're not alone either, Pietro. You don't have to be ever again. But it's your choice whether or not you choose to be."

"You remind me of my sister." Pietro wasn't sure what else to say.

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Both." He grinned wildly. "Speaking of, where's Wanda?"

"Come here, girl," Jean called into the treeline. The orange tabby scampered happily over, rubbing against their legs. Pietro grabbed the purring mass in his arms. "Let's go get your cookies out of the oven."

"My cookies?" The speedster arched his eyebrow and Jean smiled in a roguish way he'd never seen before.

"For your birthday, of course. I feel bad about missing it."

Pietro followed lazily behind as she led the way back to the Mansion. _She's not the worst person I've ever met._ Wanda purred encouragingly, and they went to enjoy their belated birthday dessert.

 **I really felt we needed more stuff with Jean. She's a really nice girl, but I can't imagine Pietro being able to trust anyone with such seemingly similar powers to his sisters so soon after she'd left. And of course now he has a nice kitty to keep him company. Anyways...**

 **~See you soon**


End file.
